Cat and Mouse
by grackle
Summary: This is another Face fic. It's rated R. 'Nuff said. ^^


Author: Grackle  
Email: ffgrackle@yahoo.com   
Instructions: What's that you say? Instructions?   
Well, yes. Just letting every one know that this fic   
is best viewed at night, when your home alone,   
with all the lights in the house off, and your back to   
an open door. Enjoy! ^^  
Summary: I think I managed to make this one   
worse than my previous fic, so I appreciate any   
suggestions or CONSTRUCTIVE criticism on this   
one. Also, the majority of it was written in the wee  
hours of the morning, so tell me if it makes any sense  
or not.   
Rating: R. For violence and adult themes (No sex   
Or language).   
Disclaimer: The A-team is the property of Stephen J.   
Cannel (Did I spell that right?), not me. Also, I am   
not making any money off this fic, and please don't sue   
me, for I am but a poor, starving, high school student.  
  
  
Cat and Mouse  
  
Man he was exhausted! Face and the team had just finished a mission and the tired Lieutenant allowed his head to rest comfortably on his seat as the van's low rumble lulled him to sleep.  
Face found himself walking down an impossibly long hallway. The stone walls were lined with wooden doors with big brass knobs. His footsteps echoed dully off the walls. Suddenly, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Something was coming after him! He could sense it's presence getting nearer and nearer. He broke out into a run, desperate to escape his pursuer.  
Murdock glanced over at his friend and chuckled when he saw Face twitch in his sleep. He looked like Billy when he was dreaming about chasing rabbits. *Except Faceman's probably chasing women* Murdock thought with a smile.  
Face risked a look over his shoulder, but all he saw was the hallway stretching off into darkness. Yet he was sure that something was after him. He knew, knew, that it was coming closer. His heart pounded in his chest as the feeling rapidly grew that it was about to wash over him and consume him. He willed his legs to go faster as sweat trickled off him, and his breath came out in sharp gasps. He tried to find the end of the hallway, but it seemed to stretch into eternity. He had to escape the malignant being behind him! Face attempted to dart into doorways, but every door he tried was locked. Growing increasingly frustrated, he jerked at the handles only to have them hold fast. Resuming his endless run down the hallway, Face felt his silent pursuer's hot breath creeping down the back of his neck. Spine tingling, he let out a yelp as he turned to face his attacker. He was met by a pair of sparkling green eyes that held a glint of something far more terrifying then evil. Face took a shaky step back to view the owner of the eyes and gasped...   
"BA! Watch out for that car!"  
BA sharply swerved to miss the red convertible as it darted past them. The squealing wheels and Murdock's outburst effectively interrupted Face's slumber.   
"Geesh guys. Ya think you could let a guy get some sleep?" Peck said banishing the sleep from his eyes, the nightmare forgotten.  
"Cheer up Face. We're almost at your place anyway," an unsympathetic Hannibal wryly remarked.  
  
BA parked his van in front of Face's newly scammed apartment. "See you first thing in the morning Lieutenant," Hannibal said with false cheeriness. Face just groaned in reply. The van sped off and Peck tiredly ambled towards his building unaware of the glittering pair of green eyes watching him from the dark seclusion of a red convertible.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *   
  
Face exited the bathroom in his favorite pair of silk jammies. Let others make fun of him if they will, the silken jams were incredibly comfortable. Though he was in need of one, he had decided against a shower tonight as his only wish was to crawl in bed and slip into a deep, comforting sleep. He kicked off his slippers and bent over to set his alarm. A shiver ran along his spine, and the skin on the back of his neck crawled. Unsure of the cause of his fear, Face whipped around and searched his room with his eyes. Nothing but the usual room interior made itself known. The lieutenant shrugged, but could not get rid of the uncomfortable feeling that there was someone else present. It felt as though a pair of eyes were boring into his back. Peck nervously considered calling Hannibal, but decided against it, not wanting to sound stupid. *I can see it now. 'Hannibal! I need you to come over now!' 'Why? What's wrong!?' 'Ummmm...well, you see, there's...something in my apartment.' 'Care to be a bit more specific?' 'It's...um...something...evil?'* Peck thought with a snort. Still, he couldn't shake his uneasiness. Feeling incredibly stupid, he picked up his gun and went off to search his apartment. He was three stories up, so unless someone had used climbing gear, no one could have come through the windows. Regardless, he still went to check to make sure all the windows were tightly bolted. They were. *Irrational, aren't we?* Peck thought, smirking. Deciding that he had already made a fool of himself and had nothing to lose, he made his way over to his front door. Releasing a nervous chuckle upon finding it closed and in one piece, he prepared to go back to his bedroom. As he turned to go, his short lived laughter caught in his throat. Disbelievingly, he bent down closer to inspect his door lock. Upon closer inspection, he could easily see that it had been forced open. His gut twisted in knots and adrenaline rushed through his veins. A shadow descended over his bent frame, and before he could react, a heavy object connected with his head sending him into oblivion.   
  
Hannibal strolled down the hallway leading to Face's room. Maybe he should have called first. Peck had been wiped out last night and was probably still sound asleep. Hannibal pictured a grumpy, half-asleep Face answering the door, pajamas rumpled and eyes still bleary. Oh joy. He loved dealing with sarcastic Lieutenants, who had woken up on the wrong side of the bed, first thing in the morning. He walked up to the door and paused. He could hear the muffled sounds of Face's alarm drifting from the bedroom. He had told Face to set his alarm for 6:30. It was now 7:15. Hannibal's face creased with a frown. It was unlike Face to leave his alarm blaring for five minutes, let alone forty five. As a sick feeling crept into his stomach, Hannibal radioed BA and Murdock, telling them to meet him quickly. He called out, "Face?" before reaching out to knock on the door. The sick feeling in his stomach came at full force as the door swung inwards. The lock had been damaged. Panicking, Hannibal ran into the apartment only to find spots of blood on the carpet by the door. As Hannibal finished checking for any signs of Face or who his assailant had been, BA and Murdock breathlessly ran into the room. Hannibal wordlessly showed them the broken lock and blood stains. Hannibal and BA shared worried looks, and Murdock shakily sat down.   
"Do you know who did this Colonel?" Murdock asked in a near whisper.  
"No," Hannibal replied, his features grim. "The blood is the only sign of a struggle, so I'd assume Face was taken by surprise. The broken lock seems to be the only trace of his attacker. I can't find a note, and Face's message machine is blank. We should go and check ours, but I have a feeling that they aren't using him for bait, or they would have contacted us by now. I-I have no idea who has Face."  
"So we have no idea where to look for the Faceman?" BA questioned already knowing the answer.   
"I just hope he finds some way to contact us," Hannibal said, his voice shaky.   
  
Face awoke with a groan. Not yet fully alert, he painfully noted that his head was pounding, but as he groggily tried to put a hand to it, he realized that his arms were restricted. That woke him up quickly. He tried to sit up, but that just made the room spin violently, so he woozily flopped back down. He was having a hard time focussing, and felt lightheaded, thus deciding to do his assessment lying down. He didn't like what he found. His hands were tied behind his back, the ropes painfully cutting into his wrists. As far as injuries went, he seemed to have the chaffed wrists, and a lump on his head where he could feel dried blood caked on his skin. This lump was accompanied by a mild concussion and a state of disorientation. His feet were hobbled, and connected to a short chain which bound him to the bed he was currently draped over. The chain was long enough to allow him access to a nearby bathroom, but how he would relieve himself with his hands firmly bound behind his back was beyond him. Much to his embarrassment, he realized that someone had replaced his pajamas with a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. *Not my usual style* he thought with a tight grin, trying to lighten the situation he found himself in. The bed he was chained to resided in a small room with log walls and a window set high in the wall through which he could see bountiful pines and shrubs. A forest? What was he doing chained to a bed in the middle of a forest? Memories painfully came crashing back to him. He had been climbing into bed, there had been an overpowering presence, a feeling of something stalking him, the broken lock, the shadow that loomed behind him, then the darkness that ensued. In short, Face realized that he had been knocked out and kidnapped. But for what purpose? Was someone trying to use him to get to his team? He prayed not. But if it wasn't that, then what was it? His pensive thoughts abruptly stopped as he heard footsteps approach the door. He couldn't restrain the shiver that raced down his spine. *Alright, keep cool Face. You're trapped in a house, in the middle of nowhere with a psycho. No problems there. You can get yourself out of this. Just keep calm, keep calm* Any state of calm that he might have achieved was quickly dashed as his captor reached the door, opened it on squeaky hinges, and stepped into the light. Eyes that glowed like green lanterns in the gloom of the room pierced Peck's wide, frightened eyes. He recognized the figure and gasped.   
"Olivia."   
  
A year ago, the A-team had been hired by a logger to protect his property, himself, and his daughter from a group of thugs that wanted to take a large portion of the little money he made logging. The job itself wasn't hard. They hung around for about two weeks before the thugs decided to make their move. The A-team quickly put them in their place. Behind bars. Though he didn't let his team know it, Face was uncomfortable about the mission. Well, not so much the mission as their living situation. They shared the same cabin as the logger and his daughter. The logger's daughter had been about his age with rich, raven black hair, and green eyes like polished gems. Face had, of course, been instantly attracted to the woman with such wild beauty. He had made his move, and she was only too happy to encourage him. However, she came on too strong, too passionate. She possessed a fierce, animalistic atmosphere that scared the hardened Green Beret. On one occasion, when he was lost in the depths of those brooding eyes, he caught a glimpse of something that made his blood run cold. Roiling, just under the surface of the beautiful, shimmering, green orbs was a streak of ugly, naked madness. One look and Face knew that she was stark raving mad, and that frightened him in a way that no criminal ever had. He had rolled off her, eyes wide with terror, and had fled from the room. As he distanced himself from the room, he could hear laughter coming from within it. She was laughing! It was not a simple laugh of pleasure. The sound assailed his ears and reminded him more of a call of some wild beast on the hunt than anything human. It was a laugh with no reason behind it, only madness. Skin crawling, Face ran until his lungs burned. He sat outside in the cool air, gulping in lungfuls of oxygen as he warily eyed the house that had the...creature lurking within it's depths. He must have sat shivering there in the grass for at least an hour. He tried to tell himself that he was being irrational. So what if she was a few ants short of a picnic? So was HM! But he knew that it was a different sort of madness. That the woman posed much more of a threat then any animal. Her's was a cold, calculating madness, and he felt as though he were her prey.  
  
Later that night, Face had approached the women's father. He asked him if he had ever noticed anything unusual about his daughter. The logger eyed Face, his hazel eyes searching the depths of Face's blue ones. He must have found what he was looking for, possibly he recognized that they both shared the same dangerous secret, for he dropped his guarded attitude. Shoulders sagging, he recounted the tale of how he used to have a wife, such a beautiful wife, with the clearest, tranquil, green eyes. His daughter had just turned six, and the logging business was good that year. Lots of tall, thick trees. He had been topping one of the giant pines, that grew around the cabin, when he noticed his daughter gathering pine cones at it's base. He shouted down to her to move, but she didn't hear him. The top of the tree started to topple, and he strained against it, desperate to keep the massive log from crushing his daughter. Though he braced against the massive weight, he gradually gave way. Ellen, his wife, must have viewed the trauma through the kitchen window, as he could see her racing towards them. Her yells could also not be heard by the child. The log slowly began to make him lose ground, then faster and faster. He cried out in horror as the tree top fell heavily towards the ground, heading strait towards the child. She was staring up at the approaching threat with eyes filled with fear and round with shock. He vainly pleaded with her to move as he started descending down the trunk. Moments before the log impacted with his daughter, he saw Ellen let out a wail and lunge towards her child. He heard the crunch of bone and a harsh cry of agony as the life was crushed from his wife. He sprinted towards the fallen log and saw her pale face under the branches. Blood ran freely from her mouth, and her stunning, emerald eyes were glazed. Death hung heavily around the scene, casting dark shadows on Ellen's moon white visage. He saw his daughter's face take on an appearance so unlike her usual cherub features. A mixture of sorrow, disbelieve, horror, and something darker played upon her face.   
  
The logger was quiet for sometime. He stared blankly into the glass of brandy that was clamped tightly in his hands. Face sat in shocked silence, digesting all that he had just heard. The logger finally broke his motionless stance, and shakily put his glass down. "My daughter was filled with so much hatred and guilt after the accident. I thought that she was too young to attend the funeral, but now I think that I was wrong. It might have helped her to say goodbye, to let go. A casual observer would never notice it, but she hates me," the logger said, choking on the last words. "I think that she holds me partially accountable for her mother's death. After all, I was the one to chop down the tree. When she looks at me, I don't see the sweet smile that she plasters on her face. I see the fiery hate that burns so brightly in her eyes. It's not just me she hates, she hates herself too. She blames herself for her mother's death. The guilt must have eaten away at her brain over the years, twisting her up inside. Her view of life is so demented now that I can't even begin to grasp what goes on inside that head of hers. She took a liking to you, but I don't think she understands love or affection anymore. She's perverted it so much that even though she has feelings for you, I think she hates you at the same time. Somehow, the two emotions got muddled up after her mother died. If I were you, I'd stay away from her. She's dangerous, my Olivia." Tears lined the old logger's eyes. Face had often been warned by father's to stay away from their daughters, but this was the first time one had told him that out of concern for his safety. He couldn't imagine how hard it must be for the old man to admit that about his own daughter. He had to wonder how the logger had stayed sane living with a child, his child, that despised him in the twisted workings of her mind.  
  
He had avoided Olivia after that. Hannibal had noted his unusual behavior, and inquired after it, but Face had just said that she "wasn't his type." The night before they left, Face found a note tucked under his pillow.  
My Dearest Templeton,  
I have noticed that you have grown uncomfortable around me. How could that be? I go to bed every night longing to be in your embrace. I WILL have your love once again!  
Olivia   
As Face reread the letter, he found it to be a fitting product of the woman who wrote it. It started out with a hint of loneliness, of need, but the last sentence abruptly changed the tone, and the letter took on a sinister, threatening air. Face shuddered. The forceful promise at the end put him at unease, and made him feel vulnerable. He slept with his door locked that night.   
  
Soon after, the team departed and headed back home. Face was only too glad to get away. He remembered shaking hands with the old logger before hopping in the van. They had shared a look of understanding, and of fear. Face had almost offered to have the logger come with them. To move away and leave that monstrosity forever. Peck sighed. He knew the logger would never leave his daughter, even though it filled the old man with despair to look upon her. As the van drove away, Face glanced back at the forlorn cabin. From the top window, a pair of green eyes met his.   
  
"Listen foo', I wanna know what ya did with our friend, and your gonna tell me!" BA menacingly said, slamming the thug against the alley wall. It was the tenth person the team had questioned today. Desperate to find out what they could about their missing teammate, the remaining team members were visiting the suspects most likely to have taken Face. The man BA currently had against the wall worked for a guy whose arrest was mainly due to Face. The boss, Clyde Huxley, had been selling kids for manual labor. Face had stumbled upon his business, and had signed up as one of Mr. Huxley's workers, eventually exposing him and sending him to jail. In light of connections in high places, Clyde's sentence had been fairly short, and he had been out for five months. Hannibal figured that he might have wanted revenge on Face, so they paid Mr. Huxley's right hand man a visit.  
"I-I don't know what you're talking about!" the scared man whimpered.  
BA just glared at him.  
The man nervously continued, "I mean, yeah he doesn't like your friend, but the people he works for have him on his best behavior. They can't afford getting him out of jail again, so he's on his own. He can't risk kidnapping pretty boy..."  
His sentence was abruptly cut off as BA punched him in the stomach.  
"I mean Peck," the guy wheezed out.  
BA looked over to Hannibal who nodded. "We're gonna check out your story little man. If it doesn't add up, we'll be back."   
He let the winded man slide to the ground, and met Hannibal at the van. "What doya think Hannibal?" BA asked his colonel.  
"I think he's telling the truth BA. I mean, look at him sniveling over there. I don't think he'd have the guts to lie," Hannibal said with disgust.  
BA grunted in agreement, and the two men drove off to find their next target.   
  
Face sat there, staring at the woman who he had thought he was forever rid of. Sometimes, when he was alone late at night, he would think back to the time when he had first met her. The whole incident seemed so surreal that he often wondered if he had dreamt the whole thing. Yet here was the face from his nightmares standing before him.   
"Templeton," Olivia said in a breezy voice. "I knew you'd be back."  
"By no choice of mine Olivia," Peck said staring her in the eye. "How'd you know where I live, and just what is it that you want," he continued, fighting to keep his voice steady.  
"You're a hard man to find, Templeton," she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I was reading the paper one day, and an article caught my eye. It described how the A-team had helped a family on a ranch. I drove over to talk to the family you helped claiming to be a victim in need of the A-team. They were very sympathetic, and informed me that they knew what town the team was at. I sped off, and began searching that town for any signs of the A-team. While driving through an intersection, what should I happen to see, but that distinct black van of yours. You guys should really drive something a little less noticeable," Olivia said with a smirk. "I was so shocked at seeing it that I almost collided with it and ended the fun right there." Face thought back to the car BA had swerved to miss. If only he hadn't been so out of it. He might have recognized the driver. Olivia continued, "it wasn't hard after that. I followed the van back to your place, and waited to make my move. It was really quite lucky that I found you at all."   
"Lucky for you maybe. You can't keep me here forever you know," Face said scornfully.  
Olivia sighed. "It's been so lonely Templeton, with my father gone, I've had no one to talk to."  
Face worriedly asked what had happened to her father, but she avoided the question.   
"Soon you will love me again. You will cherish me, and we will live here together. Just the two of us. Forever." Olivia looked at him, daring him to disagree. "Of course, you must be punished. Punished for running out on poor Olivia. After all the fun we had Templeton!"  
"And just what do you have in mind," Face asked not wanting to know the answer.   
"You'll see," she said in a teasing, sing song voice before walking out of the room.  
  
Face lay on the bed wondering how he'd get himself out of the mess he was in. How long had he been unconscious anyway? He felt for his watch only to find that Olivia had previously removed it. Not that it mattered. With his hands behind his back, he couldn't look at it anyway. Judging by the way his bladder was yelling at him, he figured that it had probably been a good number of hours. He rubbed his chin and noted the lack of stubble. Unless Olivia had decided to give him a shave while he was out, he figured that his initial guess was right. Well, that meant that the team should have noticed his disappearance. Face's bladder began yelling louder. He really had to go, but he definitely didn't want to call his captor in to help him. While he was at it, he really needed a shower. Wishing that he had not been too tired to take one back at his apartment, Face brought his attention to the layer of grime coating his body with distaste. Heck, what he really needed was a bubble bath. A nice, relaxing bubble bath. Looking around at his surroundings he decided that he probably wasn't going to get one anytime soon. Bubble baths? Why was he thinking about bubble baths? He had to focus on the task at hand. Escape. He tried sitting up again, and was rewarded with relatively clear vision. At least the room had stopped spinning. He checked the floor for loose nails to pick his lock, but came up empty. Any further searching was quickly halted as he heard Olivia coming back. Rearranging himself back on the bed, Face tried to remove the feeling of dread that was increasingly growing with each footstep.   
  
Olivia stepped into the room and grinned wickedly. Face could see that she was holding something behind her back as she walked towards him. She drew the hand from behind her back and Face saw the flash of silver that she gripped. It was a dagger! Wild eyed, Face began backing away from her. She just rolled her eyes and told him to lie still. *Oh yeah. 'Lie still so I can stab you!'* Face thought grimly and continued to avoid the advancing woman. With a quick movement, she brought the dagger behind him and slit the ropes that bound his wrists. She took a moment to enjoy the fear that was clearly present on the young man's face, before silently turning to go. At the door, she paused. "Figured you'd have to use the little boys' room," she tossed over her shoulder before walking out. Face sat there, trembling, before he could collect himself enough to move. Shaking his head at the amount of fear Olivia seemed to instill in him, Face unsteadily walked towards the bathroom.  
  
The gorgeous sunset that flared over the sky went unnoticed by the three men sitting on the porch. Hannibal had managed to get Murdock out of the VA, and was telling him of their failure to gather any useful information. "We'll keep looking Murdock, but no one seems to know what happened to him," Hannibal said tiredly. "We asked all the people who we know want revenge on Face."   
Murdock sat silently for a while. "Do you think we'll ever find him?" Murdock asked pleadingly.  
"Of course!" Hannibal replied with confidence. *I just hope he's still alive when we do.*  
  
Face had gone through the whole night without being disturbed by Olivia. He knew he should be sleeping, saving his strength, but he knew he had to be wary too. Every creak or rustle he heard brought him wide awake, teeth on edge. The lieutenant woke in the morning feeling drained. About ten minutes later, Olivia appeared in his room, green eyes flashing. "Good morning Templeton," she said sweetly. "I hope you enjoyed your sleep. Now then, we must begin your discipline. We can't have you enjoying yourself too much."  
Face glared at her, hoping that he looked alot more threatening than he felt.  
Olivia bent down close to his face. He could smell her sickeningly sweet perfume, the aroma adding to his lightheadedness. She reached out a hand and caressed his face. Disgusted, he drew away from her touch.   
"Still not comfortable near me? We can't have that. You must learn to cherish my touch, like you did not long ago," Olivia said, a touch of sadness in here voice.  
Once again she brought her hand up, but this time she slapped him hard on the cheek, sending his already damaged head spinning. "You WILL be taught!"   
She reached into her pocket and pulled out something. Face strained to see what it was. A syringe! It was filled with a honey colored liquid, and moments after she jabbed it in his arm, Face slipped into the welcoming darkness.  
  
The first thought that ran through Peck's mind was that he was blind. After a few seconds of panic, his eyes adjusted to the dark, and he realized that he had been moved to a different room. Some kind of cellar. It was dark, and windowless. Slowly, his other senses returned. Ugh! What was that disgusting smell? It smelled familiar, but he couldn't place it. Face strained to penetrate the darkness, but he could only make out vague shadows. He noted that both his arms and legs were chained to the board he was spread eagled on. He didn't like what this was leading to. A shadow to his left shifted. As it drew closer, he caught a whiff of perfume. Olivia!   
"Ah, Templeton. I see your awake," her voice drifted towards him. Now I expect you to behave. We don't want you to end up like Daddy, do we?"   
Face's stomach churned. That smell. It was rotting flesh. He knew with frightening certainty what had happened to Olivia's father. "You killed him," Face gasped. It wasn't a question.  
In answer, a silvery, spine chilling laugh met his ears.  
"You monste..." Face's exclamation was cut short as something drove into his ribs. Olivia started battering away at him with a metal block of sorts. "You don't understand. He killed her! He killed her!" Olivia said, tears flowing down her cheeks. Face would have explained to her that it was an accident, that no one was responsible for her mother's death, but Olivia rained down blows in a frenzy, and drove the breath from his lungs. As Face felt himself slipping back into the darkness, the brutal beating suddenly stopped. He could hear Olivia crying, but that suddenly stopped to. It was replaced by her now cold, hard voice, lashing out at him through the darkness. "He had to pay, HAD to pay. Just like you." As she said this, Face could hear her rummaging around. She finally found what she was looking for, and approached him. He felt her lift his leg, straighten it, and rest it on a block. Wondering what she was doing, but too tired to fight, Face lay there, wishing his friends were there. Where were his friends anyway? They should have been here by now. Hannibal was always there to get him out.   
Face interrupted whatever she was planning by voicing his thoughts in a bold statement. "My friends will find me!" he defiantly said.  
"Silly," Olivia giggled. "Your friends have no idea where you are."  
Face's felt the last dregs of his hope slip away. They would never think to search for him at the old logger's property. He was isolated from civilization. No one would come looking for him out here. Face was gripped with both panic and despair. Though he couldn't make out her face in the darkness, Olivia smiled cruelly down at him. Now he knew what it was to be left alone. To have no one to depend on. Resuming with her work, she suddenly swung a shadowy object down towards Face's elevated limb. It made contact with his shin and pain exploded through his leg. Face heard the bone snap and someone, far off, scream as his world turned black.   
  
The three team members drearily sat around a table as raindrops raced each other down the window. No one said anything. What was there to say? They had no idea where Face was, no idea how to find where he was, and no idea if he was even alive. After a few minutes more of silence, Murdock angrily got up from the table, and stomped outside. Hannibal's eyes met BA's, and the elder man went after him. He found the pilot standing in the rain, staring down the empty street. Hannibal walked up to him and stood, waiting for Murdock to speak.   
"I..." Murdock started, but halted, not knowing what to say.  
Hannibal put a hand on his arm. "I know Murdock. But we'll get him back. I promise."  
Murdock looked into his colonel's determined eyes. Hannibal always kept his promises, right? He wouldn't betray him. So why did he feel that all was hopelessly lost. He had to keep on trying though. There was always a small chance that a clue to Face's whereabouts would turn up, and however unlikely that it may be, Murdock had to be ready. He sadly smiled at the man, and together, the two figures made there way back inside.   
  
Face was still unconscious, chained back to the bed. A fever had set in, caused by his broken leg, and his eyes moved restlessly beneath the lids. His dreams were plagued by piercing green eyes, and nightmares invaded his fevered mind.  
Face found himself in a familiar bedroom. It had been his when he had been living with one of his many foster parents, Jenny and Hal Matherson. Jenny had always been so nice to him. She read him stories, tucked him in at night, and had even bought him his favorite comic books, GI Joe. Whenever Face came home, she would have chocolate chip cookies waiting for him, with a big glass of cool milk. He felt so safe when she cuddled him in her arms. She was the mother that every child would want. When he had first joined the couple, Hal had been off on a business trip, and was gone for an entire month, a month that he happily spent under the smiling eyes and nurturing care of Jenny. He was so excited the night that Hal was to come home. He remembered making a welcome home card for Hal, and staying up late so that he could run down and give it to him. If Hal was even half as nice as Jenny, then he knew that he would never want to leave them. He waited in bed, his little heart pounding as he heard Hal's car drive up. Springing from bed, he ran, feet pattering on the steps, towards the door. Hal came in the doorway, looked down at the expectant blonde boy who waved a card out to him, then kept on walking. He stomped straight up to his room and firmly shut the door. Face had stood there in confusion, tears lining his eyes as Jenny walked into the house. "Be quiet little one," she had told him. Hal gets very upset if you wake him. She tucked him into bed, and he had stared up at the ceiling, wondering why Hal was so repulsed at the sight of him.   
Face's troubled dreams leapt a couple months ahead, and his breathing quickened.  
He was in a closet, trying to be as quiet as he could. Not wanting Hal to find him. Every night would end in Hal shouting at his wife, and slapping her. Face had tried to stop this once, but Hal had hit him, sending him crashing to the ground. Hal always smelled strongly of alcohol, and he came home late, angry at anyone in his path. Face's back was mottled black and blue from Hal's drunken blows. Jenny always wore high necked, long sleeved shirts to conceal the bruises that her husband left her. Tonight was like every other. Hal was desperate to punch something, but tonight he was looking for Face. Face couldn't help but let out a soft whimper as he heard Hal's heavy footsteps approach his hiding place. He tried to flatten himself against the wall, to become a part of the wall, as the door was slammed open. Hal dragged him out into the hallway, and kicked his thin frame. He saw Jenny do something that she had never attempted before. She came flying out at Hal, raining blows on him with her frail fists. Hal was so surprised that his wife was standing up to him that he stood there stupidly as she beat away at him. She grabbed Face and left Hal standing there openmouthed. She hopped in the car, hugging Face, sobs racking her body, telling him that "it's alright. Everything's going to be all right." Face found himself back at the orphanage. The other kids were frightened of him, as he would scream in his sleep as constant nightmares assailed him. He was only six.   
  
Face awoke with a horrible feeling of loneliness washing through him. He sat there, shivering on the bed. Dark strands of sweat soaked hair clung to his scalp. Regaining his senses, Face realized that it was morning. Which morning, he had no idea. As shivers ran through him, he could feel heat radiating off his body in waves. His leg. It must be infected. Face tried to shift the limb, but groaned in pain as it protested. A noise made his ears perk up, and he turned to gaze out the window. He could hear a car engine starting. Had help arrived? Were Hannibal and the team here to rescue him from the mad woman's clutches? No he realized, his hopes quashed. No one was coming for him. Not out here in this godforsaken forest. Who then? Face saw a flash of red dart across the window. It was Olivia! Olivia was leaving. She must have to buy supplies in town, he realized. Now was his chance to escape! But where would he go, he wondered. How could he possibly make it to the town injured, before she caught up to him? Then he remembered the phone. He could call Hannibal! Tell the others where he was. With newly instilled hope, Face forced his abused body to move. He had no idea how much time he had, so he needed to work quickly. Olivia had tied his hands round his back again, so he would take care of that first. Standing up in bed on his one good leg, Face smashed the window with his elbow, shards of sharp glass embedding themselves in his arm. Working quickly, Face selected a good sized sliver and began cutting away at the ropes binding his hands. He slipped several times, leaving deep gouges in his arms. Blood ran freely making the ropes slick, as he sawed away. Finally, the ropes snapped, and he was able to free his hands. Shaking the pins and needles out of them, he tore of a piece of the T-shirt and bound the more serious cuts he had made. Wondering what he could use to pick the lock that kept his feet chained, he was struck with sudden inspiration. Sliding under the bed on his back, he worked one of the mattress springs free. Maneuvering it the right way was tricky, but the lock eventually sprang open. Feeling his mental clock counting down, worried that Olivia's car would soon pull up, Face pushed his body to go faster. Drawing the curtains to hide the smashed window, Face fed the chain under the bathroom door, hoping to buy himself some time. Throwing the bedroom door open, he hobbled down the hallway, dragging the injured limb. His breathing was ragged, as he searched for a phone. Upon spotting one, he rushed over to it, and picked up the mouthpiece, heart leaping when he heard the dial tone. Fingers shaking with excitement, he concentrated on dialing. The phone began ringing. He grew increasingly nervous as the ringing continued, then it stopped.  
"Hello?" a tired, drained voice asked.  
"Hannibal!" Face ecstatically cried.  
"Face!"  
  
The team members had been picking lethargically at Chinese take out when the phone rang. Hannibal got up to answer it as BA and Murdock fiddled sullenly with their chopsticks. Both of their heads snapped up upon hearing Face's name. Hannibal collected information over the phone, frowning every so often. "Alright Face. Do you think you can make it to town?" He paused, listening to Face's answer. "Yeah, try that. We'll look for you there first. Hang in there kid, we're on our way." Hannibal was surrounded by two excited faces as he put the receiver down. Grinning he said, "Guys, I know where Face is!" A flood of questions followed as Murdock and BA tried to find out what the situation was.   
"I'll tell you on the way guys," Hannibal said sobering. "We have to get there, now!"  
No further encouragement was needed. The three men ran for the van, hope shinning in their eyes for the first time in days.  
  
Face felt the adrenaline race through his veins as he hung up the phone. He had told Hannibal that he would try to get as far to the town as he could. He figured that Olivia might be mad enough to kill him if she found him in the house, free of his chains. He grabbed a bed sheet, a jug of water, and bottle of Tylenol on his way out of the house, expecting to see a red car pull up at any second. He hobbled behind a thick shrub, and hurriedly began preparing for his journey. First, he swallowed two Tylenol in hopes of keeping his fever down. He greedily sucked in water, as he hadn't had any since his capture and knew he was dehydrated. He then chose two sturdy sticks from the ground, and prepared to set his leg. Knowing how vital it was for him not to pass out, he snapped the separated bone back into place, blood pouring from his lip as he bit down on it. His vision swam, and sharp tongues of pain licked up and down his leg. Forcing himself to continue, he used the sticks and the bed sheet to firmly bind his leg. He stood up, and tested his work. Good enough. He could even put some of his weight on the damaged limb. Perfect. After throwing the bed sheet a good way off to give Olivia a false lead to follow, Face began an awkward trot in the direction of the town.  
  
Olivia put her purchases in her bag and headed towards the car. She had bought some food and coffee to give Face. How happy he would be! She smiled to herself. The quickest way to a man's heart was through his stomach, after all. He would grow to depend on her. That would show everyone! Show them that she was capable of taking care of someone and keeping them alive. That not everyone who loved her died. That she was worth being loved. Her father hadn't loved her. She had seen the scorn in his eyes. He held her responsible for her mother's death. Face had loved her, of that she was sure. Then he had been to talk to her father. Her dad must have told him to stay away from her, that she had killed her own mother! The nerve of him. She had been so mad at him for chasing away the only man who cared for her. It wasn't long after Face had left that she took her revenge on her father. She giggled wildly. The scorn was forever gone from his eyes! She had made sure of that. Even glazed over in death, they had still stared at her, accusing her. Quick work with a fire poker had solved that problem. Empty sockets couldn't accuse. But her father wasn't the only one she hated. She hated Face to. Hated him for acting scared around her. She had always been so kind to him. The naughty man! He had to be disciplined! Being so ungrateful, and running away on her like that. It was no way to behave. She would have to teach him that he needed her.  
  
The woman with the raven black hair and a tortured soul hopped in her car and drove off towards a new life, or so she told herself. One where she would be free from her demons. She smiled a carefree smile as she drew nearer to her home, acting as though having a beaten man chained up in your upstairs bedroom was the most normal thing in the world. Maybe in her world, it was.  
  
Face tried to ignore the agony that every step caused. He did a quick reassessment of his injuries to judge if he could make it to town by nightfall, as well as to occupy his mind. The mild concussion that he initially received didn't help matters at all, but it didn't really slow him down either. The cuts that marred his arms throbbed as he pumped his arms for momentum. He worried about further infection from them, but the blood loss was not severe enough to be a problem...yet. The beating that he had received in the cellar definitely did some damage. Bruises mottled his well toned body, contrasting sharply with his pale skin, white and sweat drenched from infection. Whatever she had used on him had managed to crack a few ribs as well. *At least they're all intact* Peck thought with a grimace. His leg was incredibly painful, and about three times the size it should be. All in all, he was in need of a shower, and some hefty painkillers. He figured that he probably had gone about three miles, and, knowing that the town was about seven miles away, he still had four miles to go. He had incredibly high endurance, and determination to match, but in his weakened state, a run that shouldn't have taken him very long was going to be keeping him occupied for the next couple of hours.  
  
Olivia pulled into the driveway, humming softly under her breath. Templeton would be so pleased to see that she had returned to him unharmed. The "disciplining" that she had given him yesterday must have set him straight by now. She put the coffee to boil, then went to check on her captive. Her eyed followed the chain leading to the bathroom, so she turned around to start preparing dinner. She stopped midturn as a thought suddenly entered her mind. She had tied his hands behind his back! What could he be doing in the bathroom? Running back into the room, she flung open the bathroom door. Empty! Howling with rage as she saw that the chain was no longer connected to a person, she fled from the house eyes ablaze with anger. He had left her! He had deserted her when he should be depending on her. This was wrong! He was ruining her chance to make everything right again. To have her mother's death to not have happened because of her, but because of her father, to have had murdered her father out of justice, to have Templeton to show the world that she did not bring death. How dare he ruin her plans. How she hated him. How she hated those eyes filled with fear. Fear of her. He would need more than disciplining this time she decided as she picked up a pistol and ran to her car.  
  
The black van sped down the road, already having evaded numerous traffic cops who seemed to think that going one hundred in a thirty five miles per hour zone was a little excessive. "We're almost there BA. He didn't seem to think that he could make it to town before we did, so I said we'd meet him along the river that runs towards it," Hannibal informed the big man.  
BA nodded, ignoring the angry honks of horns as he sped by.  
  
Face's pace was slowing. He was having a hard time keeping a pace at all. His lungs were burning, his chest was painfully heaving, the fatigue that comes with high fevers threatened to halt him in his tracks, and his broken leg was a constant pain that never lost any intensity. He was spent, and longed to cool his overheated body in the cold currents of the river he was running alongside. He hadn't managed to find a pair of shoes that fit in his desperate flight from the house, so his feet were a mess. Blood oozed from beneath tatters of skin as twigs and rocks shredded his soles further. The adrenaline had long since left his system, willpower being the only thing keeping his aching body upright. He knew he would never make it to town, praying that his friends would arrive in time.  
  
Olivia saw something shinning white a short distance off. Speeding over to it, she realized that it was a bed sheet. Her bed sheet. Seeing that the trail ended there, she drove her car back to the front of her house, furious at Face's trickery. Her snarl soon turned into a predatory smile as she spotted the clearly marked path that Face's bound leg had made in the leaves. She knew these woods well, knew that he was heading towards the river. She would soon be upon him.  
  
As Face doggedly plodded along, he reached in for some more Tylenol, only to find that the bottle was nearly empty. How many had he taken? Worried that he was going to have to add drug overdose to his list of maladies, he through the bottle to the ground. He'd have to stop guzzling the light painkillers if he wanted to make it through his ordeal alive. He figured that he was only about a mile away from the town. He was so close! He listened to see if he could hear any car sounds from the highway yet. Yes! He could definitely hear an engine approaching. He must be closer than he thought. He frowned as he realized that the sound was coming from the wrong direction. For a brief second of disorientation, he wondered if he had gotten turned around and had been walking away from his goal. His sapphire eyes glistened with terror as he realized the truth. It was Olivia! She had discovered his escape and was hunting him down. A shiver that had nothing to do with his fever overtook him. He began searching for a route of escape, but it was too late. Olivia had stopped her car and was running towards him. He was so close! He didn't want to go back to that house, back to the torment the twisted woman imposed. He began hobbling away as fast as his fever racked body would allow, feeling like a wounded rabbit about to be clamped down in the mighty jaws of a terrible beast. He supposed in a way that that was exactly what he was, only she was more terrifying than a wild creature. She was a cruel shadow of mankind, and was ravenous for others to suffer as she had internally for most of her pain ridden life. Face continued to run, hearing her simultaneously sob and laugh as though struggling for control of her emotions. He fled from her madness, but was stopped short as a blaze of agony ripped into his side. He lay there, trying to figure out why his right side wasn't responding when she came running up to the front of him, a pistol aimed at his chest. Her mouth twisted into a gaping grin as she brought her aim up to his heart. "You will be brought to justice Templeton, just like my father. You all hate me. It isn't fair," Olivia remarked as she slowly began to squeeze the trigger.   
  
The gun was knocked out of her hand as Murdock leapt on her from behind. She fell heavily to the ground. Squirming out from under him, she kicked Murdock in the stomach, winding the pilot. Scrambling towards the pistol, she grasped it in her hand.   
"Hold it right there!" Hannibal yelled, gun trained on her.  
With one last Cheshire cat smile, Olivia brought the gun up to her head and fired.   
  
The gunshot echoed loudly off the trees as the madness drained from Olivia's eyes, leaving dull green orbs staring into oblivion, a calm expression on her face. The bloodied, blonde man raised his head from the soil. Face felt detached from the scene. Mildly ashamed that he could find no feelings of remorse or sympathy for the dead woman in front of him. He noticed his friends coming towards him, coming to remove him from these rotten, gory surroundings. Away from the pain, away from the madness. Relief washed over him as he let his head sink back into the soil. Moments later, he was surrounded by blissful oblivion.  
  
Face sat staring at the grave in front of him. He felt no loss at Olivia's death, but he had to see for himself that she was well and truly dead. Buried far beneath the soil. However, she was not completely buried. She still haunted his sleep, fiery green eyes stalking his every dream. She had left a permanent scorch on his soul. His physical wounds had almost completely healed. He still carried scars on his feet and arms, but those would fade in time. He turned away from the bleary scene before him, and headed towards his teammates. They were grouped together a few feet away, waiting for him to join them. He did so gratefully, letting their presence act as a salve for his emotional hurts. Like the physical scarring, so too would the deep mental scarring he had suffered fade in time in the healing comfort of his friends. 


End file.
